In Front Of Your Garden
Two turtledoves,
Two young pigeons,
From the poor man and the rich man;
But sprinkle some of the blood in front of your garden,
And like the bush of your love in winter.
Clay and plaster,
For the summer comes with many questions;
But sprinkle some of the blood in front of your garden!
And like the bush of your love in winter.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Garden Of Roses
My garden of roses is dead
All the most beautiful flowers have wilted
And now the winter is here
My garden of roses is dead
Like my love and my nurturing was nothing
And now the winter is here
My garden of roses is dead
Nothing but dust in the wind is left
And now the winter is here
My garden of roses is dead
Everything's gone and I feel so empty
And now the winter is here
poem by Triin Kann
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In The Winter Garden
Winter has visited our garden my love
Trees have been stripped bare and flowers wilt
A frost has been laid upon the ground
Even the birds have taken to flight, away
Amid the silence of the morning I walk
Through our garden which we nurtured
How solemn it now looks without colour
The summer seems but a distant memory
How beautiful it looked back then
How beautiful it will look once more
But now in the mornings drab light
With barren trees and wilted flowers
I walk upon the hardened earth
Which feels like stone beneath my feet
We talked of planting a fruit tree
For flavour and shade in years to come
Now that is an idea in waiting
Till winter has passed, and spring returns
Winter is here in our garden my love
As I watch the vapour of my breath rise
I say your name, a love for all time
poem by Matthew Holloway
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Winter's Summer
Winter without you is like
a summer in a winter, when memories
of your love murmur in my winter.
Summer in a winter was never been
hot as it is.when the memories
of your love thrills me today.
Winters summer were very rare when
we walked on the bed of purple flowers
with your affectionate look.
When I forget this heat and
hold you in my poetic arms, you
kiss my poem through your heart
in this winter.
winter's summer was very rare...
venky
poem by Venkatesh Nagaraj
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Caring For My Garden
Negative thoughts are not,
allowed in my garden.
I clear weeds as I go,
Sprinkle positive thoughts,
Sew new seeds daily,
I am the gardner,
Caring for my garden.
poem by Heather Burns
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Holly Bush
The Holly Bush
It was in the depth of winter
When snow lay crisp upon the ground
That I saw the tiny creatures
Which fluttered all around.
I stepped into the garden
To see what the fuss was all about.
There was a fairy trapped in my holly bush
And her friends were trying to pull her out.
But the sharp leaves stabbed at wings
And they tangled up long hair
As the fairies attempted their rescue.
They weren’t getting anywhere.
The fairies saw me on the garden path
And that I was getting near
They hid behind my chimney stack
And cried aloud in fear.
‘Stop being silly now, ’ I told them
As I carefully pulled the fairy free.
‘My name is Buttercup’, she said
As she explained to me.
That she had been stealing the berries
To plant down in the wood
Because there was no holly left.
She was really trying to be good.
‘People like holly for Christmas
But some of them dig up all the trees.
They don’t leave anything for the birds
So, can we have some berries, please.’
I did not want my little friend
To take another fall
So I helped to pick some berries
And said I did not mind at all.
The other fairies came to thank me
Then taking a berry each, off they flew
But Buttercup waited by my side
There was something else she had to do.
She waved her hand up in the air
And her dress changed to green and red
‘This will remind me of your holly bush
And your kindness, ’ the fairy said.
So, if you find a fairy in your garden
With a dress of red and green
Please, allow her to steal some berries
For it is my friend that you have seen.
poem by Irene C S ClarkHogg
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The Seasons
She leant against an archway where roses fell like a waterfall.
Her delicate hands, her rosebud lips to make a young man blush.
Such is the Spring with its exhilarating essences of budding flowers,
trickling streams, birdsong to make the air zing.
Summer came and she toiled in the garden, digging out weeds,
trimming hedgerows as her skin glowed with colour.
The young man visited her everyday and was even more love struck.
Summer, a time of warmth, fulfilment and happy pleasures.
Autumn crept upon them and before they had a chance to see
love, so hot and lustful mellowed and as it died so did the leaves.
The leaves turned red and golden brown
and then came winter's frosty crown.
Winter frosts and winter snow, winter chills makes fingers glow.
The shortest days, the longest nights suddenly lit with Christmas lights.
Does a lover remember a lustful night
or the touch of her hand in the morning light?
poem by Ruth Walters
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To a Child
When I was a child I saw
a burning bird in a tree.
I see became I am,
I am became I see.
In winter dawns of frost
the lamp swung in my hand.
The battered moon on the slope
lay like a dune of sand;
and in the trap at my feet
the rabbit leapt and prayed,
weeping blood, and crouched
when the light shone on the blade.
The sudden sun lit up
the webs from wire to wire;
the white webs, the white dew,
blazed with a holy fire.
Flame of light in the dew,
flame of blood on the bush
answered the whirling sun
and the voice of the early thrush.
I think of this for you.
I would not have you believe
the world is empty of truth
or that men must grieve,
but hear the song of the martyrs
out of a bush of fire-
'All is consumed with love;
all is renewed with desire.'
poem by Judith Wright
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Bush is a very poor impromptu speaker. He does fine in small groups but when speaking without a script in front of large groups or answering questions he wasn't prepped for, he has problems.
quote by Peter Schuyler
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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See The Light
Summer's gone winter's in your eyes
I can feel the thunder storms inside
I wake every morning and the cold winds cover me
All I've got's a ghost of what could be
If you can see the lights shine in front of me
If you can see the lights shout out where you'll be
I'm in a broken cream I stare out into space
You know I called you up cos nothing takes your place
I've got a heart of stone and it's sinking deep inside
I want to tell you love I'm too proud to cry
If you can see the lights shine in front of me
If you can see the lights shout out where you'll be
Summer's gone and I can't tell you lies
Oh forgive me love I'm too proud to cry
If you can see the lights shine in front of me
If you can see the lights shout out where you'll be
Summer's gone and I can't tell you lies
Forgive me love I'm too proud to cry
Too proud to cry
Too proud to cry
Too proud to cry
song performed by by Simple Minds
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Blood Of The Poor
I rise early
And see in the east
In the morning
Find you surprisingly
A ball of crimson red
The blood of the poor and destitute
You must have drunk yesterday!
Was it easy, tasty and very cheap?
Or the blood of the rich is not red!
At twilight
In the far west
Again I see you deep red
Surely you have been fed
With the blood of the poor and the destitute
As a tricky delicate delicious food.
Still you are honorable!
Still you are worship able!
In the east
You rise
For the rich
If we put
Our demand
In front of you
Behind the cloud
You start to play hide and seek.
Willingly you have forgotten
Without keeping the promise
Going down to sleep
In the west
Like a thief
And become a perjure
Now it is cent percent sure
No one is in this world for the weak and the poor.
poem by Abdul Wahab
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That Beating Of The Bush
I'm not into,
The beating of the bush.
That beating of the bush.
I'm not into,
The beating of the bush.
That beating of the bush.
I have this 'thing' about honest and truth.
And those who become offended,
By declaring them too harsh to accept!
There has not been an experience I received,
I regretted with a wish to forget!
And those attempting to live their lives,
In pretense to deceive believing this is not deception...
Will always escape with excuses and alibis to make.
Charading as if...
No one recognizes,
Who is in masquerade.
And who amongst them fakes!
I'm not into,
The beating of the bush.
That beating of the bush.
I'm not into,
The beating of the bush.
That beating of the bush.
An honesty and truth spoken,
From deceivers is rare.
Those who deceive perceive...
Those who are direct and honest,
Are insensitive and do not care!
With a sharing of this mentality...
To those empathetic,
In a keeping of delusions...
Spared from despair!
But I know I'm not the only one...
Who elects to see,
Dishonesty from all people get up and leave.
I can't be!
I'm not into,
The beating of the bush.
That beating of the bush.
I'm not into,
The beating of the bush.
That beating of the bush.
I'm not into,
The beating of the bush.
That beating of the bush.
I'm not into,
The beating of the bush.
That beating of the bush.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Life Is Lovely All the Year
When the buds are blossoming,
Smiling welcome to the spring,
Lovers choose a wedding day -
Life is love in merry May!
Spring is green - Fal lal la!
Summer's rose - Fal lal la!
It is sad when Summer goes,
Fal la!
Autumn's gold - Fal lal la!
Winter's grey - Fal lal la!
Winter still is far away -
Fal la!
Leaves in Autumn fade and fall;
Winter is the end of all.
Spring and summer teem with glee:
Spring and summer, then, for me!
Fal la!
In the Spring-time seed is sown:
In the Summer grass is mown:
In the Autumn you may reap:
Winter is the time for sleep.
Spring is hope - Fal lal la!
Summer's joy - Fal lal la!
Spring and Summer never cloy,
Fal la!
Autumn, toil - Fal lal la!
Winter, rest - Fal lal la!
Winter, after all, is best -
Fal la!
Spring and summer pleasure you,
Autumn, ay, and winter, too -
Every season has its cheer;
Life is lovely all the year!
Fal la!
poem by William Schwenck Gilbert
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The tendinous part of the mind, so to speak, is more developed in winter the fleshy, in summer. I should say winter had given the bone and sinew to literature, summer the tissues and the blood.
quote by John Burroughs
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Down the seafront tonight - Pinewood Royal
Tall ships in the harbour
Waiting for a sailing far away
Stones across the water
Herring gulls drifting across the bay
Painted lady in the garden
The Blackcap sings from early dawn
The warm air slumbers
Soothing the Trevello Lawn
On the red cliffs of The Berry
The lighthouse shines till early dawn
We're going down
Down to the sea front tonight
We're going down
Down to the sea front tonight
We're going down to where the lights, the lights are shining bright
On the sea front you can see the rows of coloured lights
We're going down
Down to the sea front tonight
We're going down
Down to the sea front tonight
Just you and I
The bright lights sparkle
On the sea front walking by
The ice cream parlour
Fairground rides and coconut shy
Ocean going liners
Cabin lights blazing wave goodbye
White horses in the moonlight
Constellations across the sky
Red glow from leaded windows
A summer's evening in July
We're going down
Down to the sea front tonight
We're going down
Down to the sea front tonight
We're going down to where the lights, the lights are shining bright
On the sea front you can see the rows of coloured lights
We're going down
Down to the sea front tonight
We're going down
Down to the sea front tonight
Just you and I
poem by GuyPaul MitchellDwelly
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Winter's love
Winter, has the charm of life,
Winter, is like my wife.
Winter is my love,
Winter is my dream of always ''wow''
I always wait for winter like its friend,
the trees in winter always bend, having its branches like the ghosts arms.
they are my always my eye's charms.
do you love winter as i do?
poem by Leah Dsouza
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The tendinous part of the mind, so to speak, is more developed in winter; the fleshy, in summer. I should say winter had given the bone and sinew to literature, summer the tissues and the blood.
John Burroughs in The Snow-Walkers
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Winter Wolves Are Coming
The Winter Wolves are coming
They are drawing ever near
The Winter Wolves are coming
They smell our blood, our fear
The Winter Wolves are coming
In packs of hundreds and more
The Winter Wolves are coming
They are knocking at our door
The Winter Wolves are coming
With teeth as sharp as knives
The Winter Wolves are coming
They mean to take our lives
The Winter wolves are coming
The smell our blood, our fear
The Winter Wolves are coming
The Cold of Death is here.
poem by Tim Vallie
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Evergreen
Evergreen
Joe tanner
Sometimes love will bloom in the springtime
Then like flowers in summer it will grow
And then fade away in the winter
When the cold winds begin to blow
But when its evergreen, evergreen
It will last through the summer and winter too
When love is evergreen, evergreen
Like my love for you
So hold my hand and tell me
Youll be mine through laughter or through tears
Then let the whole world see, our love will be
Evergreen through all the years
For when its evergreen, evergreen
It will last through the summer and winter too
When love is evergreen, evergreen
Like my love for you
Transcribed by fred
song performed by by Roy Orbison
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Tea Leaf Prophecy
Words by joni mitchell
Music by larry klein and joni mitchell
Study war no more
Lay down your arms
Study war no more
Lay 'em down, lay 'em down now
Study war no more
Lay down your arms
Study war no more
Newsreels rattle the nazi dread--
The able-bodied have shipped away--
Molly mcgee gets her tea-leaves read--
You'll be married in a month they say
"these leaves are crazy!
Look at this town--there's no men left!
Just frail old boys and babies
Talking to teacher in the treble clef."
She plants her garden in the spring
She does the winter shovelling
Tokyo rose on the radio
She says she's leavin' but she don't go
Out of the blue--just passin' thru
A young flight sergeant
On two weeks leave--
Says "molly mcgee--no one else will do!"
And seals the tea-leaf prophecy.
Oh these nights are strong and soft--
Private passions and secret storms
Nothin' about him ticks her off
And he looks so cute in his uniform
She plants her garden in the spring
He does the winter shovelling
But summer's just a sneeze
In a long-long-bad-winter cold
She says, "i'm leavin' here" but she don't go
"sleep little darlin'!
This is your happy home
Hiroshima cannot be pardoned!
Don't have kids when you get grown.
Because, this world is shattered
The wise are mourning--
The fools are joking
Oh--what does it matter?
The wash needs ironing
And the fire needs stoking."
She plants her garden in the spring
He does the winter shovelling
The three of 'em laughing 'round the radio
She says "i'm leavin' here" but she don't go
She plants her garden in the spring
They do the winter shovelling
They sit up late and watch the
Johnny carson show
She says "i'm leavin' here but she don't go
song performed by by Joni Mitchell
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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In the Garden, With My Father
It is spring.
As in my garden, I stand.
In the garden -
My father is there;
... though long since gone...
He IS there.
I tend to the weeds,
The veggies and flowers...
He is there.
I never understood him
(as I should have, could have) ...
Until now,
Here, in the garden.
Where I, like he, work the soil.
I've come just recently
(these last few years)
To enjoy and love my garden so.
- I am not as surprised afterall, as I would have thought,
To find him here.
Here, in the garden.
He loved his garden very much.......
I - at that early age of restless youth - had no use
For such slow moving things.
But now, I see, and myself move, at a much slower pace.
Therefore, it is him I am here and now able to see,
In the garden.
Watching it all grow, so peacefully.
It is somewhat sad, that now,
When I can no longer tell him,
I understand.
For I have come to find... I love the garden too,
Just as much as he;
And we both always will.
My father - standing in the garden -
I now know.
After all these long years.
And I've missed him so;
But, how wonderful to find,
He IS here...
In the garden, our garden,
Always, with me.
poem by Smoky Hoss
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